Finding who I am
by SherlockedOnCumberbatch
Summary: Sometimes we as humans have to go through the shit that life offers so that it can mold us into who we are.


Staring at the cracked sidewalk, he kept moving forwards. Glancing up every so often he tried to ignore the looks from the other pedestrians. Passing a TV he saw images of the war gracing the tinted screen. Turning to face the TV's he shoved his hand into his jean pockets. He watched men, brothers,sons, dart across the screen. Bombs exploded sending dirt and men through the air. The boy exhaled, he didn't realize he hadn't inhaled until a man shoved past him. The young man watched the rude stranger sprint down the street. Turning back to the screen he looked into the eyes of a young soldier. The similarity to the boys brother was remarkable. Enough so that the boy took a double take.

"Joey? No, that cannot be him." he muttered and walked away from the TV screen. As he continued down the sidewalk on one of his occasional glances up something caught his eye. A group of people waving signs had grouped themselves around the Army's Drafting Agency. As he grew closer a girl waved at him. Her long wavy blond hair was pushed back and was held by a cluster of flowers. She was holding up a sign that said, "No War, Just Peace."  
"Bradden!" she yelled at the boy. He watched her as she beckoned for him to come over. Bradden stood on his sidewalk watching the peaceful protestors walk back and forth in front of the building. Looking back down to the cracked sidewalk he continued on his way not looking back until a small skirmish began between police officers and the protestors began. The small business buildings soon led into a neighborhood with large two story buildings holding families safe and cherishing old memories. Rounding a corner he saw a group of children running back and forth in an empty lot. Some of the older kids waved at him remembering when they were young how he would run around with them playing cops and robbers to pass the hot summer days. The small ones, those who were new to the field, only stared after the young man as he continued on his walk. Kicking a can as he walked he listened to a pudgy women yell at her drunken husband leaning against the old wooden staircase. Bradden continued on his trek walking through the two story houses to his one story rundown home. A little girl sat on the porch making a doll move it's little stuffed legs around the wooden floor, marching it like a little soldier. She looked up at the young man as he walked into the house. A gentle pat on her head made her smile brightly at the young man. Walking into the dim room he went past a row of pictures that hung perfectly on the wall. Seven spots for frames but there were only six pictures hanging on the wall. Bradden walked past the small kitchen with it's dishes piled high and it's cupboards open for the world to see. Entering a small dark room he walked over to a heap that was laying on a bed in the middle of the room. The heap rolled onto it's back revealing a woman sleeping underneath a pile of laundry. One hand grasped a wet shirt and in the other was the missing picture. It was a photo of five people standing in front of a new house. A man stood next to the woman with his hand wrapped around her waist. A little baby was sitting on her hip fast asleep. There was a little boy who was gazing up at a teenager who stood next to the man. Bradden leaned over to pick the picture off the bed. He rubbed his thumb against the edge of the frame. He sighed and set the photo against a lamp next to the bed facing the women. Leaving the room he went into another room that was across from the women's. There were two beds against against the walls. A small desk sat underneath one window that was in between the two beds. Bradden pulled the chair out and sat down. Opening one of the drawers he pulled out a piece of paper and a pencil. He looked out the window at the sun that was beginning to set. Putting the pencil to the paper he began to write,

_Dear Joey,_

_Mom fell asleep with the picture again. This would make it the third time this week. She really misses you, we all do. Anne is playing on the porch with molly. Mom just helped Anne sew a dress for molly. There were more protestors around the office today, even Bailey was there, she wanted me to stand with them. But how can I? Dad laid his life down in the war and you...well you're fighting in it. Everyday is the same here nothing really happens. Life used to be exciting and I loved it here, but now nothing is the same as it was before the war. I used to know that you would come home safe from work but now...Speaking of work Mr. Wills is letting me work your shift, just till you get back of course. I don't know how you could ever work there. He's always mad and throwing stuff around the shop.  
I want to leave this town. Go away anywhere. I don't want to get caught up in the war on the homefront. The fight of peace over war. I'm waiting till you get back. I'll leave then, go off to college maybe or go see the world. This town seems to grow smaller every day. Do you remember Stephen? The snotty nose kid who always was following me around. Well he just started High School. Now his little brother follows him around. Remind you of someone? Your shadow, that's what mom and dad always called me. Speaking of Dad, Anne has been asking about him again. I don't know what else to say to her but that he's never coming back. Maybe if we never went to war Dad would be alive and you would be home... It's getting dark so I'm wrapping up. We miss you and hope that you will come home safe. _

_-Bradden_

Opening a drawer opposite of the one he had previously opened he set his letter on top of a stack of others. Sifting through the papers he recalled the many days that he waited for his brother to come. He slammed the drawer shut when Anne ran into the room. Tears trailed her face and she gripped the doll against her chest.

"Anne, what's the matter?" Bradden stood up rushing to his sister. The chair fell backwards slamming into the floor. The child pointed to the front door where two men in brown uniforms stood. Their hats were held against their hearts. Bradden felt his blood run cold as he slowly walked over to the men. Holding his sisters hand he stood before the men awaiting the news. The siblings spun around when the heard a shriek come from behind them. The women stood in the hallway with the photo in her hand while her other was pressed against her face trying to suppress the tears. She fell against the wall and slid to the floor. Anne ran to the women falling into their lap. The women held the child afraid to let her go. Bradden looked back to the men. "I'm so sorry." That was all the soldier could say before Bradden shoved past them and ran down the street.

By the time he came back to his house the officers were already gone. The women was putting Anne to bed. After she was done singing a lullaby she set the photo next to her daughters bed. She then went into her own room and shut the door. Bradden sat on the porch and listened to the crickets and the owls sing to the moon. Out of the dark the blond hair girl walked towards the light. She sat down next to Bradden and listened to the song with him. She looked at him. His head was bowed low and his eyes were tightly shut.

"It's okay to cry." She placed a hand on his back watching his face intently. Slowly he opened his eyes and looked at her. Water lined his eye ready to cascade his face. Looking out into the sky he let a single tear fall down his face.

"He loved twilight." Bradden whispered almost afraid to raise his voice in fear that the music would come to a halt. He looked at her again whispered, "I don't know what to do. He should have come home." He looked back down to the ground where a flower had just started to grow up through the dry soil. Jumping off the porch he ripped the flower out of the ground it threw it to the side like a weed. The girl followed him as he started for the sidewalk. They both walked in the dusk not saying a word. The walked around the empty lot and then around a baseball field. Memories came soaring back to Bradden as he remembered all of the times he had followed his big brother to the hand out spots. Joey's friends would always make fun of Bradden saying he was to young to hang out with them. Joey would always shut them up quickly and then include his little shadow in the game they were currently playing. Now Joey and his friends were gone. They had all gone and joined the war. Some were still fighting and some were buried far in the ground.

"Are you going to leave?" the girl broke the silence. She knew of his dreams about leaving the small town. "I'm not sure I can now." She understood that. Her brother had decided not to join the army so that he could help his single mom make a living for them and his sister. "You don't belong here. You and I both know you are suppose to see the world." He stopped and turned towards her. "I don't know _where _I am suppose to be. I don't know who I am anymore." Bradden started to walk away when the girl pulled at his shoulders until he stood facing him.

"Your Bradden, a man who loves his family. Who has worked hard for many years saving up to leave this crummy town. You have compassion for those who are called to war but you see the pain and destruction it brings. You are brave, watching the world take away things that you care about has made you stronger, made you see the world for what it is. You have a passion to see different worlds and experience different cultures. Who are you? You are a man who has seen devastation but who has also seen love. And where do you belong? You belong wherever this tells you to be." She pressed a finger against his shirt and felt a steady heartbeat. "Life is hard and the world is cold, but that is what makes you who you are. The trials you go through build who you are. Who are you? You're a man who is loving, brave, and adventure driven, a man who has seen pain and can give compassion. That is who you are."

They both continued walking in silence and when they came up two story white house the young girl turned to Bradden and squeezed his hand and walked up the walkway to the door. Bradden then walked alone the short distance from her house to his home. Quietly turning the doorknob he entered the silent home and tip toed to his room. For the second time that day he sat down at the desk and pulled out another piece of paper and his pencil. He sighed and then started to write.

_Dear Joey,_

_We found out today that you're not coming home. Mom and Anne are devastated and I guess I am too. I have decided to go to college next year. Mom and Anne should be able to live without me by then. I know you always wanted me to go. I'm going to see the world. We had always talked about going to see South America and visit Europe. Maybe I can take Anne with me one time and Mom of course. I will think of you when I leave, I'll always think of you when I see my shadow. I miss you Joey, I wish you could be here. I love you..._

-Bradden

He opened up the drawer filled with letters and pulled them out and set them on top of the desk. Placing the last one on top and found a long piece of string and tied them together. Pulling out an old shoebox from underneath his bed he dumped the contents onto the floor. He placed the letters into the box and then set the lid snug on top. Sliding the box under the bed he then turned off his lamp and fell asleep on the bed opposite to his.

A young child ran through the old house bumping against the picture filled walls. An old women started yelling after the child.

"Son, control that child of yours." A man entered the room and smirked and then ran after his son. The women smiled and started to mutter as she walked into the small kitchen.

"Joey? Where are you Joey?" the man playfully looked around each corner trying to find the small child. A door was cracked open and a quiet laugh could be heard through the slit. The man opened the door and stepped into the old room.

"Mom wasn't kidding when she said she left everything alone." Two beds still stood against the walls. A quiet laugh was coming from underneath one of the beds. Leaning over the man quickly lifted the blanket to reveal a young child curled up against old shoeboxes.

"There you are!" The child squealed as he was pulled from underneath the bed.

"No, no daddy!" The child kept laughing as fingers began to tickle his side. He began to swing his legs and he kicked an old shoebox out from under the bed. The box tipped over and a group of papers fell out. Both stopped laughing and looked at the box. The little boy squirmed out of the grip of his father and crawled towards the open box. Still too young to read he quickly rummaged through the pages of writing. He did recognize one word that began on every paper.

"Daddy, look my name." the small child pointed to the name on the paper. The grown man picked up the papers and looked down at them.

"Why is my name on them?" the child crawled onto the his fathers lap.

"Well..." he looked down at his son and then to the papers.

"Do you want me to tell you a story?" The child nodded.

"This is the story about the man you were named after. He was a brave man. He can never be forgotten, we should always remember this man."

"Can I meet him?" the child interrupted and looked up. The father looked down, his eyes showing long forgotten pain.

"I'm afraid not."

"Then how can I remember him?" the man looked around the room and saw the old lamp sitting on the desk.

"Like this." Standing up the man walked towards the lamp and turned it on, then he walked over to the light switch and turned off the overhead light. The lamp immediately casted shadows around the room. "Stand up." The small child scurried over to his father and stood in front of the light. "Turn around." Both father and stood away from the light and saw their shadows that stood on the wall in front of them. "Whenever you see a shadow remember this man." Both father and son sat on the floor sat. And while the son made shapes in the shadows the man told him the tale of the man named Joey and how he had showed him who he was.


End file.
